


Are you mine?

by NimmMichMit



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Dysfunctional Relationships, F/M, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 17:12:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NimmMichMit/pseuds/NimmMichMit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's only so much a man can take.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Are you mine?

**Author's Note:**

> The pieces of lyrics are from the song "R U Mine" by Arctic Monkeys. Story is set at some point after 2x09 and it's completely ignoring the following episodes ever happened. In my head-canon things went another way entirely.

Bass counts seconds with the endless, steady tap-tap-tap of water drops falling to the floor of his cell, trying to keep his mind from wandering. What a stupid thing to try. It never worked before, why would it start now?

_He watches her sapphire blue eyes go wide as he walks over to her, pressing in her personal space, his own eyes probably going dark with the thrill of the hunt, like a wolf stalking its prey. She is bloody. It doesn't matter, he is too._

_It feels satisfying, her warm skin under his fingers, as he clutches her shoulders with more force than he probably should. She opens her mouth to say something, but he shuts her up with one look. Seconds go by like this, intense, with her so close he can feel her heat radiating off her body, her back pressed against the wall. No escape. She doesn't seem to want to, anyway. Perhaps he has her hypnotized._

_**I go crazy 'cause here's not where I wanna be.** _

He stands up, worked up, frustrated and ready to have a go at anyone that comes within arm's reach. It's not really violence that would really put him at ease, but his skin is crawling with the need to bolt, to go back to her, and really, he was such an idiot to ever leave her side. But he couldn't face her, he didn't dare to own up to his own actions and reactions and emotions.

A sharp pain hits him, and he belatedly realizes he just punched the wall. The fuck? Is he losing his mind again? The man guarding his cell looks at him, startled, then laughs.

"What," he presses, because he wants -needs- to pick a fight. Needs to release all this tension. It's probably not wise, but he's never been into doing the wise thing anyway.

"That's not going to get you out of here any sooner."

He glares at the guard, his eyes clearly ordering him to  _shut the fuck up_. It's not even a request. He must still have some sort of edge to him, because the man shuts up and turns around. Maybe the pent up need is really bringing out the unhinged man in him, the monster that he was.

Oh, but he's still a monster, preying on a little princess. And man, does he yearn for her. _Crave her._

He feels his strength leave him as he hits the cell wall with his back, and slides down, a heavy sigh dropping from his mouth as his eyes close. God, he needs to get the hell out of here.

_A **nd satisfaction feels like a distant memory.** _

_Pleasure jolts through him as his lips crash against hers. He brings her closer, and really, that's an almost impossible task, what with her being pressed between his hard chest and the harder wall, but he somehow manages._

_He forces his tongue inside her mouth, and she opens up for him, instinctual and primal as ever the girl can be, and he doesn't think she has paused to consider who he is, but then she moans his name, and he's done with playing games. Dropping his hands to her legs, he props her up, and she snakes her legs around him, her hands flying up to tangle in his overgrown curls._

When he opens his eyes again, Miles is there, and his hands are red with the guards' blood. He laughs, breathily, never feeling more relieved in his life.

"How'd you find me?"

"Followed you. Saw you getting into trouble."

Bass laughs even louder, and Miles gives him a hard look, but he can't really stop himself. He's practically shaking with the need to get out.

_**She's a silver lining, lone ranger riding through an open space in my mind when she's not right there beside me.** _

"Where's Charlotte?" he suddenly asks. His mind brings up a crazy image of her being the one to save him, two horses waiting out there for them to run away and never look back. Now, that's stupid. He has been left alone with his own mind for too long.

"Outside, waiting."

Or not.

He feels suddenly claustrophobic, and he groans, "get me the fuck out of here."

Miles grunts something that he can't quite manage to understand, but that he guesses is something along the lines of 'pushy prick', but he makes quick work of the lock, and as soon as he's free, he's bolting through the door. Or he would be, if Miles didn't stop him. He turns to look at him, gaze questioning, and his friend offers him his swords.

The urge to facepalm is there, everpresent. How could he forget about those? "Thanks," he says, a curt acknowledgement for both getting him out of there and saving his life and bringing his weapons back to him, which is probably another way to save his life.

Then they make their way through the building, and sneak out, and sure enough, Charlie is there, sitting on her own horse, and holding both Miles' and his. She locks eyes with him, and he is hit with such a dizzying, violent, primal, feral wave of _pure need_ he can barely stand on his feet.

_**And I can't help myself, all I wanna hear her say is "Are you mine?"** _

Miles knocks him on the back, almost sending him stumbling. He reacts, gets a hold of himself and runs to his horse, jumping on it like he would love to jump the girl.

_"Go!"_

_He stares at her. She's red-lipped and flushed all over and her hair is all over the place, and all he can think is how damn beautiful she is, but she's yelling at him to go._

_"No," he growls, and presses close again._

_"Fuck you, Bass, just leave."_

_Always the same. Lure him in like the siren she is, then crush him against her rocks. He breathes in deeply, trying to calm himself, but he's still too high on her, and he can't let her go, although she's ordering him to. "You can't do this. Not again."_

_"I can."_

_**Well, are you mine?** _

"What the hell were you thinking, leaving like that?" she hisses as she follows him into the house. He hasn't stopped to look at her, despite all his instincts screaming at him to just do it. "Answer me," she demands. He gets in the room he's claiming for the night and tries to close the door on her face, but she stops him.

She gets in, and he shuts the door behind her, and he can't really stop himself. He pushes her against the door, and she moans out as her back hits the wood hard, so beautiful, so enticing, and he knows that he's going to break and crash and burn against her again, when she eventually rejects him once again, but he's past the point of caring.

_**Are you mine?** _

"I wasn't," he utters against her neck, before he sucks on her pale gold skin like it's going out of style.

"What?" she breathes out.

"I wasn't thinking," he repeats, and if she's going to say anything else, she forgets about it when he bites that particularly sensitive spot on her collarbone.

_**Or just mine tonight?** _

"Fuck," she groans, as he pushes his fingers deeper inside her, curling them just so, and it's the first time he actually managed to get this close to fucking her, so close to being inside her. He feels like a teenager all over again.

"I want you tonight, don't make me go tonight," he begs against her neck, feeling moisture on his mouth, and he doesn't know if it's sweat, blood, tears or his own breath. She doesn't answer, but he feels her going slack, and maybe he's said the wrong thing, because she's pushing him, and he knows, he _knows_ that he's going crazy.

They think he was crazy before, but he was actually going nuts here, and that time when he'd ended up being a dictator seemed like child's play with what his mind is doing to him now.

"You can't do this," he growls, pushing her and walking away from her. Come morning she would have bruises in her arms and back. He doesn't care anymore. "Not again, Charlotte."

"I can."

"No. You can't. I'm out."

"You can't leave us!"

"Watch me!" he yells back, and he doesn't care if Miles hears. Doesn't care if the whole damn Patriot army hears. He turns around to pick his swords, and he feels her hand on his shoulder and he's really a stupid idiot, because he turns around for her.

Only to get his face smacked.

_**I guess what I'm trying to say is I need the deep end.** _

His body shakes with the urge to do something. He won't hurt her though. He can't. He'd rather cut off his own hand.

"You don't see it, do you?"

"What is there to see?" she asks, feigning ignorance, and he knows this all too well because he's spent way too much time examining her face and she's not that good a liar.

_**Keep imagining meeting, wished away entire lifetimes.** _

"All I could think about when I was locked up was you. You, the little brat that can't decide what she wants."

She moves to slap him again, but he grabs her wrist in time. He's done with the games. He's done with dancing to her tune. "You want me. Fucking own up to it. Or don't. Whichever way suits me just fine, just stop leading me on."

He drops her hand, and gets out of the room before he can do something stupid. Miles stares at him as he gets out of the abandoned house they're crashing in for the night, but he doesn't care. Miles should know better than anyone to leave him be when he is like this.

_**Unfair we're not somewhere misbehaving for days.** _

He's lost track of time, sitting on a log and watching the stars, imagining a world where things weren't so complicated. It must have been quite a long while, because the stars are no longer there, and the sky is getting lighter and lighter.

He hears her before he sees her, but all too soon she's there, and no matter how hard he needed to see her when he was captive, he can't bring himself to look at her right now.

"I hurt you," she says, and it's not even a question, just an acknowledgement.

"Yes," he agrees.

"Why?"

He glances at her. Like he needs to tell her. Like he needs to say that he craves for her, that he can barely breathe when she's away, that he fears she'll die everytime they go in battle because he knows he would die too. That he feels like dying when he sees her go with someone else.

"It's crazy," she utters.

"I know."

"It won't work."

"Know that too."

"I hate you."

He sighs, defeated. "I know."

"I need you."

Bass looks up, and he barely has time to react before he has her sitting on his lap, her wandering hands all but ripping off his shirt. To hell with his shirt, he can get a new one, or fix it later, her mouth is on him, and she started it this once, and he's not going to break the spell for anything in the world. Much less a shirt.

_**Are you mine tomorrow?** _

He's buried balls-deep inside her, and the way she groans and whimpers is practically enough to bring him over the edge, but it's his name spilling from her mouth over and over again that has his head spinning. Her walls clamp around him, her body quaking, and it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

_**Or just mine tonight?** _

"Are you mine?" he asks, breathily, as he watches her come down from her climax. He's about to lose it himself, but he needs to know.

Charlie doesn't answer, but she looks down at her hand still clutching his bicep, and he follows her gaze to her wrist. He looks back at her, and she holds his stare as he pulls out and comes over her chest.

On her wrist is his brand, forever burned there.


End file.
